


Sprinkle Ache

by MandalorianDragonTrainer



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Appendicitis, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Industrial Grade Sprinkles, Sickfic, Surgery, Written On My Phone’s Notes App
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalorianDragonTrainer/pseuds/MandalorianDragonTrainer
Summary: A painful stomachache prompts a late night trip to the ER for the Pines family.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Sprinkle Ache

**Author's Note:**

> My sister asked me to write her a little drabble where Mabel needs to go to the hospital, so here it is, as originally written on the notes app of my phone. Set the summer after the original series.

“I told you not to eat those industrial-grade sprinkles anymore. It literally says ‘not for human consumption’ on the back.”

“Twas but a wee bellyache, dear brother!” Mabel Pines replied in a fancy voice like the people used in those black-and-white movies Grunkle Stan liked to watch when he thought everyone was asleep. “I’m feeling much better now!”

“Too bad we can’t say the same for the bathroom,” Dipper shuddered as he settled onto his bed, leafing through the new Sibling Brothers book. “You just _had_ to use the one in the shop, huh?”

“It was so romantic of Soos to clean it up for Melody,” Mabel swooned as she fitted her favorite purple socks onto her feet. “He really is a better boss than Stan.”

“Yeah. Romantic. Anyway, you should probably get some sleep so it doesn’t come back. And no jumping on the bed.”

“Ugh, okay, _Mom_ ,” Mabel groaned, flopping back on her pillow. “Waddles and I will just binge watch ‘Real Housewives of Nome, Alaska.’”

As if on cue, Waddles came pounding up the stairs, shaking the entire house on his way up. 

“Mabel, that pig is 400 pounds. You need to quit bringing him upstairs before he breaks the floor. The Shack is not exactly structurally sound.”

“Shhhhh...” Mabel chided, covering Waddles’ ears. “We do not body-shame in this attic!”

Dipper rolled his eyes and put on headphones to drown out the drama of Mabel’s reality TV before rolling over with his book. He must have fallen asleep somewhere in chapter 17, because the next thing he knew Waddles’ cold snout was pressed to his back. 

“Ah!” He shot upright. “Waddles, what are you—“

In the moonlight filtering in through the window slats, he could see Mabel curled up in a painful ball, teeth grit. He quickly flicked on the lamplight and pulled off his headphones.

“Mabel, are you okay?”

She only moaned in response. Dipper hopped out of bed and rushed to her side. “Mabel, come on, what’s going on?”

“I think the sprinkles are back for revenge,” she whispered, clutching her stomach. Dipper could see beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. 

“Okay, um, let me get—“

“Oh no!” Mabel grabbed the empty pillowcase she used as a sleeping bag for her stuffed animals and threw up in it. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Sparklenose, I’ll get you a new one.”

“Okay, uh, does it hurt when I do this?” Dipper gently pressed on her abdomen, evoking a yelp of pain.

“Oh yeah. Definitely hurts. Don’t do that again.”

“I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“No, no hospital,” Mabel hunched over and flopped on her side. “I-I’ll be fine.”

“You feel kinda hot. I think this is more than a stomachache. I’m gonna go wake up Stan and Ford.”

“No, they're so old, they need 15 hours of sleep or they’ll die!”

“They’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” Dipper padded down the stairs and rapped on the door to Ford’s room, which he now shared with Stan since Soos had taken over the former Mr. Mystery’s bedroom.

“Come in, I’m still up,” Ford replied.

Dipper peered in, spotting Ford reclining on his bed, nose buried in the latest edition of his favorite scientific journal. “Uh, Grunkle Ford? I think Mabel needs to go the hospital. Her stomachache’s back, and I think she’s got a fever.”

“Really?” Ford asked in concern, setting aside his reading. “Does it hurt to the touch?”

“Yeah. She seems worse than before. Do you think it’s serious?”

“I definitely think we should get her checked out.” He stood up and went to his brother’s bed on the other side of the room, where Stan was sprawled out snoring. “Stanley, wake up.”

“Uggggh, for the last time Sixer, I ain’t goin jogging at 4 AM.”

“It’s half past midnight, Stan, and this is about Mabel.”

“What?” Stan lifted his head. “She all right?”

“We need to take her to the emergency room. Dipper says her abdominal pain is back, and it seems to have gotten worse.”

In an instant, Stan was out of bed and pulling a shirt over his ratty tank-top. “Ford, go start the car. I’ll bring her down.”

Dipper followed his grunkle up the stairs. It was amazing how fast the arthritic old man could move when his beloved great-niece needed help.

Mabel was still writhing on the bed, nightgown soaked with sweat. Dipper glanced away from the floor, which was splotched with evidence his sister had gotten sick several more times since he’d ran downstairs.

“Oh, pumpkin,” Stan brushed Mabel’s hair out of her eyes. “Your belly not treating you very well right now, huh?”

“I don’t needta go to the hospital, Grunkle Stan,” she mumbled, clutching her stuffed pink manatee.

“There’s nothing to be scared over, sweetie,” Stan assured. “Dipper and Ford and me’ll be right there with you the whole time, okay?” He carefully gathered her in his arms like a sleeping baby. “Hold down the fort while we’re out, okay, pig?”

Dipper quickly stuffed an extra change of clothes for Mabel and some of her art supplies in his backpack, just in case she had to stay the night. He ran ahead of Stan and hopped in the backseat of the car.

“No ya don’t,” Stan lifted him out by the collar of his shirt and plunked him the passenger seat seat, squeezing himself into the back, refusing to set Mabel down. “I need the extra leg room.”

The hospital was only a 10 minute drive from the Shack. Dipper hoped the doctors here were a bit more competent than the other citizens of Gravity Falls.

There were no other patients in the waiting room, which was lucky, since Stan would’ve broken their knees if they tried to go in front of Mabel. A nurse led them back right away.

“Looks like you do have a little fever, honey,” she patted Mabel’s head sympathetically. “The doctor will be right back.”

“Please tell him to hurry. We’ll pay extra!”

“That’s not necessary, Stan,” Ford elbowed his brother.

“All right then,” the doctor (whom Dipper recognized as apparently the only one in Gravity Falls—which didn’t exactly fill him with confidence) pulled back the curtain. “Let’s have a look at Miss Mabel here.”

“It’s just a little bout of sprinkle tummy, no big deal,” Mabel bit her lip, pink manatee in a death grip. She winced as the doctor pressed on her belly.

“Take it easy there, doc!” Stan exclaimed. Ford once again elbowed him.

“I’m worried it might be appendicitis,” Ford suggested.

“Hmmm, that’s certainly a possibility.” The doctor pulled over the bedside ultrasound machine, applying the cool gel to her abdomen.

“That’s cold,” she whispered, glancing nervously at the monitor.

“I can confirm it is indeed appendicitis. And it appears the appendix has already ruptured.”

“That-that means she needs surgery, doesn’t it?” Dipper asked worriedly.

“I’m afraid so, son. Immediately.”

“No! I-I don’t want surgery,” Mabel turned to look at her family. “Grunkle Stan, don’t let him!”

“There, there, sweetie,” Stan ruffled her hair. “Doc, isn’t there any other way?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. Unless we remove the ruptured tissue and start a course of antibiotics right away, there’s a very good chance your niece will become septic.”

“Septic...” Stan looked to Ford, who nodded grimly.

“We’ll phone her parents for permission. A nurse will be in right away to prep her for surgery.” The doctor exited, leaving Mabel on the verge of hysterics.

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, I don’t wanna have surgery!” Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Don’t worry, Mabel, it’s not that big a deal,” Dipper assured, taking her hand. “Remember when I had my tonsils out? I got to stay home and eat ice cream and everyone brought me gifts. You’ll get lots of presents. It won’t be that bad, you’ll see.”

Mabel choked. “But I don’t wanna be cut open! I don’t want them to put me to sleep!”

“There’s nothing to fear, Mabel,” Ford put a hand on her shoulder. Stan could instantly tell he was about to make the situation worse. “To put it in simple terms, the anesthetic will turn off the the portion of you brain responsible for consciousness. You’ll be completely unaware of everything happening, including the passage of time. It will seem as if no time has gone by at all. In fact, anesthesia has been likened to more of a ‘controlled death’ than sleep, because—“

“ _Death_!?” Mabel’s already pale skin whitened even further.

“In a way. They will place a tube down your throat to provide oxygen since you likely cease breathing and—“

“OKAY, I think that’s enough of that, Sixer!” Stan clamped a hand over his brother’s mouth. “Don’t listen to him, sweetie. I had my wisdom teeth taken out when I was 16, so I have first hand experience. None of that dying junk. Why, I dreamed I was sliding down rainbows the entire time!”

“Rainbows?” 

“Of course! And uh, there was a magical, uh, stingray-puppy-horse with me. All polka-dotted. Best dream ever..”

Mabel looked doubtful, but she had stopped crying. Stan decided to take that as a win. He knelt down beside the bed and gently ruffled her hair. “Just don’t be scared, okay? You’ve handled a lot more than a little old surgery. It’ll be over before you even know what’s happened, and I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart. Now you and Mrs. Manatee be good for the nurse, okay, pumpkin?”

“Okay,” Mabel agreed, keeping her arms locked around the stuffed animal. Dipper crawled up onto the bed and gave his sister a hug. 

“When you get home, I’ll let you put makeup on me. But no pictures and I get to wash it off right away. Deal?”

“One picture?”

“Stop pushing your luck,” Dipper gave her a gentle shove. 

“Okay. No pictures. The picture in my mind will be plenty.”

“Good thing you curb-stomped the memory gun or else I would totally wipe it from your brain.”

“Honey?” The nurse poked her head through the curtain. “We’re gonna take you back now. But we’ll let you talk to your parents before you go to sleep.”

Mabel glanced over at her uncles. “Will you walk back with me?”

“As far as we can, little one,” Ford smiled.

Another nurse came in and folded down the bed railing. Stan and Ford stood on either side of the bed as the nurses rolled Mabel out of the room, holding her hands. Dipper remained perched at the foot.

“Here’s your stop, little man,” one of the nurses said as they reached a pair of doors marking “PERSONNEL ONLY.” He lifted Dipper off the bed.

“You’re gonna do great, pumpkin,” Stan leaned down and gave Mabel a kiss on the head. “We’ll be right there when you wake up.”

Mabel gave her grunkles and brothers a final hug before a nurse handed her a cell phone so she could talk to her mom and dad. She looked back and gave a final wave as the doors closed, chattering into the phone. Evidently the pain drip was doing its job.

The moment the doors shut, Dipper turned his face into Ford, his little shoulders shuddering.

“Dipper, what’s the matter, boy?” Ford kneeled down.

“I just-what if-I’m afraid...” Dipper’s brown eyes filled with tears as he dropped his face into Ford’s shoulder, so the hospital staff wouldn’t see him cry.

“Hey... look at me Dipper.” The kid didn’t respond, keeping himself buried in Ford’s sweater. “Mason... look at me,” he repeated, a little more softly.

Dipper lifted his head and swiped at his eyes. “I’m just scared that-that she won’t be all right.”

“Mabel will just fine. You did the right thing, coming to get us. We got her here just in time. You might’ve saved you sister’s life.”

Dipper smiled weakly and sniffed. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right.”

The family headed to the waiting room to settle in. “We should hear back before too long,” Ford said. “Appendectomies usually don’t take much more than an hour.”

Exhausted by the night, Dipper soon dozed off, slumped against Ford’s arm. Stan paced the room, claiming it was to prevent his legs from cramping. Soos and Melody arrived about half an hour later, having driven to the 24/7 supermarket the next town over to pick up as many fuzzy blankets, stuffed animals, balloons, and get-well-soon cards as their arms could carry. 

“I couldn’t decide if she’d like the pink, purple, yellow, or blue teddy bear best, so I got them all,” Soos rationalized. 

A little over an hour later, the doctor returned. “How is she?” Stan asked, worried out of his mind despite Ford’s constant reassurances. 

“I can confirm the surgery was a success. She’s been moved to recovery, and you can be there when she wakes up.”

Mabel’s eyes were just beginning to flutter open when her family entered the recovery room. Dipper moved Mrs. Manatee so the toy was tucked under his sister’s arm. 

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Stan squeezed his niece’s hand. “How you feelin?”

“Sore,” she spoke after a moment. “I-I don’t remember any rainbows.” She gazed off at the corner. “Is that giraffe for me?”

“She should be more lucid in a short while,” the nurse promised.

Dipper laughed. “Naw. That’s just Mabel.”

“We got some feel-better presents for you, girl-dude,” Soos covered her with an assortment of blankets while Melody lined the bed with stuffed animals, a balloon tied to each one. 

“Thanks, Soos,” Mabel managed a grin. “Look, new friends, Mrs. Manatee!”

“Mom and Dad are driving up from home,” Dipper told her. “They should be here by tonight. And I texted Candy and Grenda. Once it’s morning they’ll be by with some Post-Preteen magazines.”

Mabel wrapped her arms around as many stuffed animals as she could hold. “Dipper?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for making me come. I know I could’ve gotten super sick if I didn’t.” She handed him one of her new stuffed animals, a seahorse. “Here. The boys have the babies. You love weird stuff like that.”

Dipper chuckled. “Thanks, sprinkle queen.”

“Ugh,” Mabel stuck out her tongue. “I don’t think I’m ever eating sprinkles again.”

“You know that’s not what caused your appendix to explode, right?”

“Doesn’t matter... I’ve never seen such colorful throwu—“

Dipper put out his hand. “TMI.”

“All right, all right,” Stan scooped Dipper off the bed. “Let your sister get some rest.”

“Can’t he stay, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel asked from underneath her mountain of stuffed animals and blankets. “I won’t be able to get better if he’s not here.”

“Only if you promise to rest and not yammer with each other.”

“We will.”

Stan tucked the sheets around Mabel. “No more gettin sick, okay, pumpkin?”

“Promise.”

Stan settled in next to his brother, keeping watch over their niece and nephew, who soon fell asleep on the hospital bed. “Honestly, Sixer... I don’t know what I’d do without those kids.”

Ford smiled softly. “I don’t either, Stanley.”


End file.
